looks like she’s two seconds from turning on the waterworks, but I don’t have time for this shit.
So I leave.
I go.
I get in my car and I drive to Bette’s—again.
And if Irie’s still not home, I’ll sit and wait.
Fifteen minutes later, I’m trotting up Bette’s walkway and knocking on the door. The sound of footsteps on the other side is a relief, even if they don’t belong to Irie.
“Hello again,” Bette says when she answers.
“Irie isn’t back by chance, is she?” I ask, realizing how breathless and worked up I am.
“Oh. Um …” Bette presses her lips into a thin line. “I don’t know that this is such a good time for a visit, Talon. Maybe try again another—”
“Aunt Bette, it’s fine,” Irie interrupts, stepping out from behind her great aunt. “I’ve got this. It’s okay.”
“You sure?” she asks. I look past Bette to find her friend, Brynn, in the mix as well. It kills me to think about what she’s been going through today, all of it at the hands of Mom and Mark.
Irie nods as she makes her way out to the front stoop and Bette closes the door behind her.
“I don’t know what they said to you, Irie,” I begin. “But whatever it is, you don’t have to listen to them. This … us … it’s not their decision.”
Her arms are folded and her gaze is steady on her bare feet.
“You know the other night when I asked what you wanted in life? Everything you listed off … those are the things I want too,” I say. “And I want them with you.”
Her glassy eyes lift onto mine, but she doesn’t say a word.
“You know why this is so complicated?” I ask. “Because it’s real.”
She’s still quiet, contemplative.
“I want a future with you. And I don’t know how to make that happen given our current circumstances, but it’s something we have to figure out together,” I say.
“Your mom threatened my career,” she finally speaks. “She told me if I didn’t leave you, she’d have me blacklisted. She even threatened to call Kira Kepner.”
“Seriously?” Of all the things my mom is capable of, playing hardball like that, being ruthless, has never been her forte. “That has Mark written all over it.”
“Why didn’t you tell me you hadn’t signed the contract yet?”
“I don’t know … because I hadn’t made a decision yet.”
“Were you planning to sign it at all?” she asks.
I shrug. “I don’t know, Irie. I don’t know.”
“They said the deadline is today. Is that true?”
“Yes.”
“You need to sign it.” She lifts her chin, looking me square in the eyes. “Regardless of what your mother said, I love you too much to let you to throw your future away just to be with me.”
“Come to Richmond. Start a life with me there.”
“My job is in Malibu.”
“I’ll take care of you,” I say.
She puffs a breath between her full lips. “I don’t want to be taken care of. And this is my dream, my passion. I didn’t go to college for four years just so I could do nothing.”
“Then get a job in Richmond. Hell, I’ll front you the money to start your own design firm.”
“It’s not the same.”
Reaching for her, I untangle her folded arms and pull her nearer. “I don’t understand. I’m offering you the world, I’m giving us options, and you’re refusing to so much as consider any of it.”
She bites at her trembling lip, glancing away.
“I have to sign that contract, Irie,” I say, exhaling. “At the end of the day, I know it’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. I know I’ve worked for this my entire life. And you’re right, somewhere, deep down, I fucking love the game. I was born to play, even if I’ve been feeling burnt out the last several years. But I also know that you’re a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. There’s never going to be another you in my life, another us. So I’m asking you, one last time, to come with me. Let’s build the best life together, you and me against the world. I’ll give you that home you’ve always wanted, that stability and meaning you were talking about the other night.”
She swipes at a tear that falls down her rosy soft cheek.
“I love you more than I’ve ever loved anything in the world,” I say.
“And yet you barely know me.”
“I know enough,” I say. “And imagine how much more I’m going to love you when I get to know the rest of you.” I manage to get the tiniest smile